The missing words, in order, make an 8 by 8 word square with the same words going down as across. (Warning: these are not words everyone will know...)
The thugs moved ________, lurching unpredictably like those poor creatures I'd seen in the seaside marketplace, trying to cut off my retreat.
Realising I'd never make it to the gate, I instead began to climb up the scaffolding. It wasn't hard, compared to climbing the ________ of the old-fashioned sailing ships I had so loved as a child.
Behind the scaffolding were finely-crafted ________ supporting the entablature, as though it were an ancient temple built to revere the titans; the embassy must have been built in better economic times, when national pride took precedence over austerity.
“Be sensible,” Gilgamesh shouted up at me. “The Human ________ Project is too valuable for any one corporation to own. One day a human might regrow an entire limb, like an axolotl! We just want our share of the profits! It's for the people!”
Had I been fighting for the wrong side all along? I looked down, imagined myself falling. A chill ran through me, like a ________ blast of wind. I couldn't trust him, not after all I'd seen.
I balanced precariously on a short horizontal timber, securing two upright posts together. (My eidetic memory told me it was an ________, yet another example of why having a good memory is useless in a crisis...)
One of the thugs was climbing up after me. For want of anything to drop on him, I spat on his head.
“Please,” said Gilgamesh. “Act a little ________. We are both civilised men, are we not?”
What should I do? Give up? Destroy the formula, to prevent it falling back into the wrong hands? Try to bring it back to my corporate overlords? I felt like whatever I chose, future historians would judge me in future history books, and the ________ of the present would try me in their essays, and find me wanting...